Assassin's Protege
by Kari Suttle
Summary: Pre-GW Series. After being taken in by Odin, young Heero gets mixed up in the world of Dekim's Barton Foundation. From the age of five, he must begin learning the ways of an assassin.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: Yay my baby has been revived! Anyone reading this, do note that Tristan is Heero as a kid. I figure that not only was he at one point a kid, but that at one point he had a real name and not a codename for a name. Also, fuck the Frozen Teardrop background for him, cause its not accurate. I am not going by that because, if you look at the original timeline for gundam wing's events and at episode zero, its relatively IMPOSSIBLE. His background in the novel Gundam Wing: Frozen Teardrop I mean. Far as I'm concerned, that's just a badly written fanfic that somehow managed to get published. Now, onto the story! Oh and since this will be from the point of view of a young five-to-eight year old Heero (five at first, eight later) you won't really need too much background knowledge other than the very basics, which can easily be looked up online by googling gundam wing. Now, onto the fic! For real this time. Before I start adding Gerard Way quotes to my Author's notes.

Bright blue eyes were trained determinedly on the tiny, clear raindrop as it slowly made its way down the car window. It was racing several other raindrops down to the bottom corner of the window, and he had to fight not to lose track of it when suddenly it ate one of the raindrops it had been racing against. He giggled, briefly wondering what it would be like if the cars his daddy watched race on tv could do that. He imagined his daddy's favorite, the orange one, opening up its hood and launching onto the one his daddy hated, the blue car, like a hungry lion with its hood barring machine parts like they were teeth and its wheels off the ground and ready to pounce. He giggled to himself. It would be funny if the race cars could do that!

Looking back to the window, he tried to find the raindrop that had ate the other one. Deep blue eyes searched and searched, but he couldn't find it. Had the raindrop got eaten by another raindrop? He pouted, bored once again because his new game had been ruined, and turned to his daddy in the seat in front of him. "Daddy, are we there yet?" he asked, tapping his daddy on the shoulder.

His daddy's already irritated expression became angry. "No, Tristan, and don't ask again! We'll get there when we get there."

Todd's pout deepened. "Then will you play 'I-Spy' with me?"

His daddy's once-straight lips turned downward in a sharp frown. "No. I'm tired of that game."

"Then what about 'Favorite color'?" he suggested.

His daddy quirked an eyebrow. "Play what?"

He giggled. "It's a new game I made up! You tell me your favorite color, and we'll search for stuff outside or in the car that's that color! Whoever gets the most wins."

His daddy groaned. "No, that's just like 'I-Spy'. Now shut up and entertain yourself, I'm trying to drive. You're lucky I brought you with me and didn't leave you home alone. Its only because of your mother that you're even coming, boy, remember that."

He pouted and glared, but turned back to the window nonetheless. He guessed his daddy was probably right; his mommy never liked it when his daddy went up to his work to practice and left him home alone while she was at work, even if it was only for a few hours. He had heard them arguing real loudly, really late at night once after his daddy had done that last time. He sighed and started bouncing his red-and-white sneakered feet against the seat in front of him, making little 'thump-thump' noises as his feet hit the back of his daddy's seat. When would they get there? He started to wonder if they would ever get there.

By the time they stopped at a small gas station, his daddy had told him off twice more and it was still pouring rain. Confused, he looked around. They weren't parked in front of the big things with the numbers on them that changed really quick, so they weren't getting gas, so what were they doing? "Daddy why are we stopping? Do you have to go to the bathroom? Can I come in with you? I wanna get a chocolate bar!"

His daddy grunted from the front seat as he reached for their umbrella in the floorboard of the passenger seat. "No chocolate bars, we aren't going into the store. If your hungry, you should've ate more for breakfast." His daddy said, getting out of the car and slamming the door behind him, "We're getting out and walking to my new job from here. It's safer that way. Wait there, I'll come get you out and carry you there."

Though confused, he nodded. His daddy knew what he was doing, right? He hurriedly unbuckled and threw his jacket, shoes, and hat back on as he watched as his daddy got out and quickly blew up the umbrella, covering himself from the rain, before closing the door and opening his. Eagerly, he jumped out of the car, trying to see how big of a splash he could make in the puddle as he landed. "Daddy, why did we have to stop here instead of at the place you work?"

His daddy snarled as he closed the car door. "Shut up. Don't ask things like that."

He pouted, feeling a little put off. "Why?" His daddy picked him up and he wrapped his arms around his daddy's neck.

He could practically feel his daddy get angrier. "I told you to stop talking. Don't say another word until we get there, understand?"

He nodded, burying his head into his daddy's shoulder, trying to hide from the cold wind. His daddy was a big man, and he could always warm him right up. Cuddling up against his daddy, he watched as they passed lots and lots of buildings. They walked by tons of stores, lots of which had put up pictures of ladies and clothes and jewelry and stuff his mommy liked, and finally some older buildings. Did his daddy work in one of these? They didn't seem all that friendly, not like the other ones they had passed before with all the decorations and pictures in the windows. Was this the kind of building his daddy worked in now? The work that his daddy had moved them up from earth into the space colonies for so he could get away from working for the big evil Alliance military people? Uncle Odin had even helped him get the job! He thought his daddy and Uncle Odin's jobs would be in a much cooler building than these old, dark buildings were. He had loved playing with the mechanics in the mobile suit hangers while his daddy talked with his boss, but it didn't look like these buildings could hold one mobile suit, let alone an entire base full of them!

After what seemed like hours, they approached an aging warehouse. The building was really, really big, like a football stadium, tucked in between and past a bunch of other buildings, and was hard to get to. He wondered how his daddy had ever found it. Just getting to it from the road was like going through a maze! The brick was all faded and worn, and the windows were cracked and broken. Was this really where his daddy worked? He was so caught up in looking at the building that he didn't feel his daddy's arms move and wrap around his small, four year old frame. With a cry of surprise he was put down rather suddenly on the alley floor. He gazed questioningly up at daddy, but daddy didn't say anything. Daddy ushered him inside, and he walked in, his footsteps small, timid, and uncertain. Daddy followed, and closed the umbrella. He was surprised when he saw that the cold concrete floor, long taken over by dust and all kinds of debris, had nothing on it. No desks, no counters, no chairs, no isles, no people, no nothing. Where they at the wrong building?

"Daddy, I don't think you went to the right building. There's nothing here!" he cried, sorely disappointed. He had gotten cold and tired and bored all for nothing!

Daddy huffed, almost laughing. "No, we're here. You'll see." He looked at his daddy incredulously, and his daddy gave a rare chuckle. "It's a secret. Come here, I'll show you."

Nodding, he followed his daddy over to the other end of the warehouse. They stopped at a wall, which his daddy tapped several times. Tap-tap, tap. His eyebrows rose sharply, behind his mop of dark, chocolate brown hair, as another series of knocks sounded. Ones his daddy hadn't made, ones that were in a different pattern. After another knock from his daddy, the wall jumped to life and moved. He gave a yell of surprise, watching in disbelief as the wall moved to reveal a landing with two men, armed with guns, standing on it in front of a winding staircase that led down, down, down into the ground.

The men were tensed, holding their guns and aiming them at them, but when they saw his daddy they quickly lowered them and muttered their apologies.

"We apologize, Agent Callum Lowe. Is this boy your son?" The man on the right said. He started and moved closer to his daddy, clutching at his daddy's pantleg. Who were these men? They were scary! They looked at him angrily, like he'd called them something really, really mean or stolen their toys.

His daddy's reply was rough and to the point. "Yeah, he's my son Tristan. He'll probably end up being my protégé anyways, seeing as he's my kid, so I thought that because there aren't any missions today I'd bring him to see a bit of my work." The man on the right nodded, saying it was alright. The other man, the one who hadn't talked, said something on a phone real quick before motioning them onward. He was glad that the men didn't follow them down the staircase like he thought they would. They stayed by the staircase instead.

They went down several flights of stairs before he saw more of those scary men with guns. They had walked down yet another staircase, and instead of being met by an unguarded, vacant doorway they were met with locked double doors and two more men with guns. He promptly dove behind his daddy.

These men glared at him angrily and suspiciously, moreso sternly than angrily. The lady guard nodded. The other guard, the boy guard, spoke now. "Agent Callum Lowe, and your son, I presume?" His daddy nodded. "What is your favorite animal?"

His daddy's reply was prompt and quick. "A bird." His eyes shot up. His daddy was lying! He knew his daddy liked dogs the best, because he wanted one but couldn't get one cause mommy was allergic.

"What is your favorite thing about the bird?" The first guard, the lady, continued.

"The wing." His daddy answered. He frowned. Wasn't it supposed to be 'wings', not 'wing'? He thought about asking his daddy, but a mean look from the other guard made him think twice.

The woman nodded in approval, before unlocking the door and motioning them through. "You know where to go, Lowe."

The guards moved, letting them go passed the double doors. He cowered close to his daddy, never letting go of his vicegrip on his daddy's hand and pantleg. His daddy walked down a hall, and then another, before leading him into a room at the middle of the third hallway.

Inside the room was an old man with a shaved head, a grey mustache, and a pointed face. The man had a serious, stern expression and a commanding air about him. If he had ever been one for jokes, he certainly would not want to tell any to this man. This man didn't look like he knew how to laugh, he was too serious. "Good morning, Mister Lowe. I have not called you in for a mission. To what might I owe this occasion?"

His daddy cleared his throat and straightened up a tad. "I'm here to introduce my son, Tristan Callum Lowe." His daddy said, pushing him forward from behind his pantleg, much to his surprise and fright. He cried out and twisted, trying to hide back behind his daddy. He didn't want to get closer to the scary man Mr. Barton! He didn't win, and ended up face to face with with only the desk between him and 's calculating gaze.

leaned up slightly, trying to get a good look at him. "Hello, Tristan. Are you here to watch your father work?" he nodded shyly. "Good, good. I hope you're excited, because one day you might be able to do your father's work."

His eyes lit up. "Really? I could do my daddy's work?" he asked, moving up to the desk and standing on his tip toes so he could see the man better.

smiled, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Certainly, if you wanted to."

He grinned, and turned to his dad. "Wow! Could I really, daddy? Learn to shoot a gun and bag the rats just like you?"

His daddy gave a small nod. "Sure, son. If that's what you want to do." Then, his daddy turned back to . "I'll be in the basement if you need me." nodded and told his daddy bye, and they left the room, probably to go to the basement. He wondered what they were oing to do in the basement.

"Daddy, what are we gonna to do in the basement? Is Uncle Odin gonna be there? You said Uncle Odin works here too, can we go see him too?" he asked as they walked into another room.

"I'm gonna practice shooting for a bit, and you're going to watch." His daddy replied, grabbing some big, bulky old AD-age headphone-looking things and put them on his head, before handing him some and telling him to put them on. He did so, pouting, and watched as his daddy grabbed one of the guns off the rack. It was a small silver one, small enough that he could probably hold it.

He always got to watch his daddy shoot! His daddy loved to practice shooting, even if he was really good at it. His friend Carter, whose dad had never worked in the Alliance military like his dad used to, said he would have loved to watch his daddy shoot like a soldier, but to him it was a boring, everyday occurrence. "But you always do that at the cabin on Earth! Can you teach me how to shoot instead? I wanna learn how to shoot like you!"

His daddy grunted, and shook his head. "If I taught you now you'd probably blow your head off. Someday when you're older, maybe I'll teach you how to shoot too." His pout deepened, if that were possible, as he followed his daddy into another room through a big, heavy door. He jumped as he heard the repetitive, familiar loud 'bangs' of guns being fired. Even muffled by the big headphones, they were still loud enough to scare him. The new room was big, and it had a long counter running along it that was divided into nine little counter areas. It wasn't a stall like he had pictured it, not like a bathroom stall, but rather like a thin little counter – about the length of his arm, probably – that extended wall to wall, save for a little door, and had big, metal poles going through them and into the ceiling, spaced out evenly enough so that a person could fit comfortably between them. He supposed they were the 'stalls' that the Dr.J. person had meant as there was only one unused one – the one his daddy was walking him to all the way on the other end of the room. They didn't look very much like stalls, though, morelike windows to the moving people-shaped targets that the other people were firing their guns at.

His daddy put the gun on the counter part of his stall before turning back to him. "Sit against the wall so you're not in my way or anyone else's. You can watch me from there, if you want." His face lit up as he watched his daddy play around with the gun for a moment before pointing it at the grey, people-shaped cutouts on the other side of the room. He moved closer to his daddy and pushed himself up on his tip-toes, trying to get a better look. "I said stand back, boy! Do you want to get someone shot?" Shrinking back, he meekly moved back as asked, feeling more than a little bit cowed. He'd only been trying to see his daddy play with the gun! He got to watch daddy all the time back at their old house on Earth, so why couldn't he watch him here, too? If he couldn't learn how to shoot, he at least wanted to be able to watch his daddy shoot instead of watch his back. Frowning, he tried to move around and get a good look, but found that the counter and his daddy blocked most of his view of the targets. His frown became a pronounced pout and, with a dejected sigh, he plopped down on his butt and folded his legs in front of his chest, wrapping his arms around them so he could rest his chin on them. Now he couldn't watch his daddy work!

Pouting, he tried to busy himself and not think about his daddy working right in front of him. Daddy's job here was the same as on earth back when he had worked for the Alliance. Daddy said that he was practicing putting holes in the cardboard cutouts so that when he had to work he was a good shot and could bag the rats for the Alliance. He didn't know what being a good shot had to do with his daddy's job of bagging rats for the Alliance, though. His daddy had told him that his new job was like being a police officer for the rebels and taking care of bad guys, only they didn't arrest people. He had asked his daddy what they did with the bad guys if they didn't put them in jail, but his daddy wouldn't tell him. He had given up asking. All he knew was that his daddy hated the Alliance and that his job was helping bring the Alliance down, somehow.

His mommy, on the other hand, told him all about her job. His mommy's job was a lot easier to understand, she'd explained it to him – she helped people like his daddy in the Barton Family's company when they got hurt or sick. It was her job to help them feel better so they could go back to work. She fixed broken bones, injuries, and all sorts of things! On a rare occassion, when daddy was out of town and Carter's mom couldn't watch him, she would let him sit with her in the medical bay while she worked if it wasn't very busy. He wished his daddy would let him watch him practice! His mommy did, so why wouldn't his daddy? He decided to ask.

"Daddy, why can't I watch you practice? You said I could watch you practice but I can't see!" he cried, looking up at his daddy. His daddy didn't answer him, just kept shooting the gun at the people-shaped targets. "Daddy!" he said louder, "Let me see, daddy! I wanna watch you! Why won't you let me watch you shoot?" Still no answer. He kept trying, over and over, asking just a bit louder each time. With each moment of silence, his frustration grew into anger. He was starting to get mad at daddy for not answering him. He stood and stomped his foot. "Daddy, answer me!" Still nothing. Frustrated, he moved over to his daddy. Daddy would pay attention to him if he wasn't shooting his gun, so he'd make him! "Daddy!" Grabbing one of his daddy's arms, he pulled it down towards him. As he did so, his daddy startled and suddenly there was a loud BANG and the sound of breaking glass. He yelped and made to cover his ears, only to knock off the headphones. He backed up as his daddy looked at him, his face angrier than he'd ever seen it. His face was turning purple he was so angry!

The whole room was silent. Before he knew it, there was a loud SLAP as his daddy hit him across the face. "What the hell are you thinking you little brat? You could have got someone shot! I wasn't answering you because I was trying to concentrate, don't you understand that?" His daddy grabbed him by the collar and pulled him towards him, so close he could see the hairs up his daddy's nose and the veins popping out in his neck. His daddy shoved him forward so he was looking out at the shooting range. A big, meaty finger pointed up at the ceiling, where sparks were flying from a broken light. "Look what you did. Look! What the hell were you thinking! Well! Answer me, boy!" His daddy pulled him back to look him in the eye.

His lip quivered and tears welled up in his eyes. "I-I wanted you to le-let me watch you…" he stuttered, "…but you wouldn't answer so I tried to get your attention…I'm sorry daddy I didn't mean to do that!" He couldn't understand why his daddy had hit him – his daddy had been mean and yelled, but had never hit him. Was he really that bad? "I'm sorry, daddy, don't be mad! I'll be good, I really will! I promise!"

His daddy shook his head and set him down. "No you won't, I know you. I'm taking you home. See if I ever teach you how to shoot after that! Get the umbrella, now." He nodded, tears streaming down his face as he ran to grab the umbrella from where his daddy had set it. His daddy put up the gun and led the way out, not even bothering to hold his hand. He followed him morosely back out to the alley and out to the car.

When they got back to the apartment, his daddy told him to go play. While he pulled off his blue-and–black strap-up hot wheels shoes, he watched his daddy. His daddy went to the fridge and got out a weird looking bottle with a bunch of hard words on it. He couldn't remember what it was called, but he knew his daddy wasn't supposed to drink it while it was just him and his daddy, he was supposed to wait until his mommy got home. But with his daddy so mad, he was scared to bug him more. His cheek was still hurting from where his daddy hit it, and he didn't want to make his daddy madder. Even though he didn't think his daddy would hit him again, he was still worried that he might if he talked to him, so he decided to leave him alone and go back to his room to play. Daddy didn't like him bothering him when he was drinking the bottles he wasn't supposed to anyways.

He played on his racetrack rug with his race cars for hours, trying to forget about his cheek. It still hurt, lots, and he was starting to get hungry too. Was it lunch time yet? He thought it might be. It had been a long while since they left daddy's work. He wondered why his daddy hadn't fixed lunch yet. Wasn't it lunch time by now? He tried to ignore the growing hunger because he really didn't want to bug his daddy. His daddy would just yell at him if he asked him for lunch. But eventually it became too much and he left his room. He peeked around the corner of the hall, looking for where his daddy was. His daddy was asleep on the couch, and lots of bottles were scattered across the table and some had fallen onto the floor. He frowned. If daddy was asleep, he couldn't get him lunch! He'd have snacks for lunch then.

He tiptoed into the kitchen and glanced at the clock on the stove. 3:00. It was way past lunchtime! He quietly opened the cupboard two cupboards away from the stove, the one below the microwave, and looked through the basket of snack food. Chips, cookies, fruit snacks…all of it looked really good, but after a few moments of thought he pulled out two bags of Cheetos and a bag of fruit snacks before going to the fridge and pulling out a bottle of water and making his way back to his room. On his way there, he noticed the mini dvd player on the bookshelf at the front of the hallway, and an idea came to him. He could watch a dvd while he ate! He couldn't watch cartoons in the living room cause his daddy was sleeping, but he could watch a dvd! He bounded back to his room and put the snacks and water bottle on his hot-wheels decorated bed before going back to grab the dvd player and some dvds from the bookshelf. His dvds were on the bottom – he had the most, he could proudly say – and he had lots of dvd, but he knew which one he wanted to watch without even thinking about it: Cars! Grabbing his favorite dvd from the shelf and the dvd player, he ran back to his room and plopped on his bed. He propped up the pillows against the headboard and put his snacks beside him, and his water on his nightstand, before pulling the dvd player in front of him and opening it up. Grabbing the dvd case, he pried it open and popped out the Cars dvd and put it in little slot on the side of the dvd player. As the dvd player was thinking, he opened up one of the bags of chips and started munching. Within moments, he was happy and content in front of his movie with his munchies, the earlier confrontation almost forgotten. Almost, because it was kind of hard to forget when his cheek hurt whenever he chewed. He wished his mommy were back from work, because then she could make it all better.

Author's Note: In case you weren't able to figure it out, Tristan is Heero as a kid. I figure at one point he was a kid, right? I don't have a five year old brother, just an eight year old sister, so if I'm not properly characterizing Tristan as a five year old boy please let me know. Anyways, please review! Let me know what you think, or I cannot possibly ever expect to improve as a writer.

Keep running,

~ Kari


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: After much delay due to writers block and a general lack of interest in this fic, I'm back! Oh and I had originally planned for a much longer chapter, but I have to plan some major plot points out so this one is going to be short. The next one will be longer, though. Again, let me know what you think of all the characters! Are they real enough? Are they in character for their age? I've never written adults/parents before, and I don't have a five year old brother, so a lot of this is new to me. Oh and if anyone's noticed the fact that tristan's shoes keep changing, that's not intentional I just keep forgetting what they look like so I make it up. And be warned, my 'shift' key is sticking pretty bad, so some stuff like names might not be capitalized right. Oh and im going to start putting in random quotes because I want to, and because I want to see if anyone on here recognizes them. Well, read and review!

_"The future's too bright to dwell on the past. Life moves fast, run faster."_

It was dark out when his mommy had finally come home, having picked up dinner on the way from McDonalds. When she'd walked in and saw daddy drinking the bottles he wasn't supposed to touch anymore until she got home, she got mad. She'd sent him to go wash up so he wouldn't have to see her yell at daddy, but he'd heard her anyways as he entertained himself making a watery mess of the bathroom counter. She yelled at daddy about how he said he would quit now that they'd moved away from the Alliance base on earth and closer to Uncle Odin, daddy's brother, and gotten new jobs. In the end, daddy had stalked out the door, slamming it behind him just as he was walking out of the bathroom and back to the kitchen to eat yet another dinner without daddy. It was the not so new norm, ever since his daddy had taken that last mission with the Alliance a year ago.

He was currently sat at the long, six-chair oak kitchen table eating his happy meal and glancing every so often at the toy still sitting in its bag beside his fries. It was another Leo mobile suit, just like the one he'd gotten the other day when his mom came and ate lunch with him like she always did on Fridays. He didn't mind getting two of the same toy, because now he could make them fight each other!

"Mommy?" he asked, peering up at her and talking around another bite of his chicken nuggets. "Can I open my toy now? I'm finished with my chicken nuggets!" throwing the last bite in his mouth, he showed the now empty four piece chicken nugget box to his mom, hoping she'd give in and let him play with his new toy early.

His mother heaved a sigh and nodded. "Fine, you can open it. At least you're eating dinner," his mother said, giving his daddy's dinner, which was sitting on the counter, a weary gaze. He cheered, completely missing his mom's look, and excitedly tore the bag open before darting back through the kitchen and down the hall to his bedroom to grab his other Leo before planting himself right back in his chair at the table.

"Remember to finish your fries, or I'll take the toys away until you're done." His mommy cautioned.

"Yes mommy, I will." He said in between enthusiastic imitations of guns firing and pilots yelling at each other. To make mommy happy, he dipped a fry in his ketchup and shoved it in his mouth. His mommy would take away his toys if he didn't at least eat and play at the same time, she'd done it before.

When he was done with his fries and his milk, he put all the trash in his happy meal box and threw it away before going back to his room to play with all of his mobile suits. He had them set up on the bookshelf by the window across from his bed in the center of the room against the wall. He had three Aires, two Leos, and one Cancer, one Taurus suit in all. Carter had more than him, he had ten suits total. Next time he got to play with Carter he'd have to bring his mobile suits over to his house so they could have a battle with them.

DING-DONG. The doorbell! Grinning, he ran to the door, hoping it was Uncle Odin. His mommy looked through the peep hole before opening the door.

"Uncle Odin!" he cheered, hugging the aforementioned tall blond man around his legs. "Did you come to play with me?"

Uncle Odin chuckled lightly, ruffling his messy mane of chocolate brown hair. "Sorry junior, no can do. I'm actually here to talk to your daddy. Is he here?"

He pouted and let go of his uncle. "Aww why do you gotta talk to daddy? Daddy's not here anyways. Is it work stuff? I thought you already showed daddy around everywhere. Did daddy get a mish-miss-missun?" he asked, stumbling over the unfamiliar word he'd heard say.

"Yeah, its work stuff. I'm not supposed to talk about it. How about you go play for a bit, okay? I'm going to talk to your mom and then go see your dad, but maybe we can play for a bit some other time, like after school sometime." Odin replied, turning to his mommy. His pout morphed into a grin, and he went back to his room not feeling quites so put out. He was gonna play with Uncle Odin sometime after school soon! Probably even this week, because Uncle Odin had said that he was gonna have time off this week cause it was mommy and daddy's anniversary this week.

Meanwhile, Odin turned to Erika, concern written all over his bright, sapphire blue eyes. "Did you two get into a fight again?" Erika nodded, her expression turning sad, and overwhelmed. "How are you holding up?"

Erika sighed shakily. "I don't know. I just don't know what to do anymore. I try to be understanding of everything he's going through and I try to help him, but nothing's working anymore. He does this every night now, and I just don't know how much more I can take it. He's never here anymore, and I can't even trust him with our own son anymore. Do you know what he did last Wednesday? I got called into work, so I left Tristan with Callum and when I got home, guess where Callum was? The bar! He told me that it was okay because Tristan was in bed and the alarm was on, but its not! What if someone had broken in? With all the uprisings and mobile suit skermishes with the rebels, there's been more homelessness and crime than ever. It scares me. I mean, just a few blocks down some rebels broke into a home of an Alliance family, killed them, and stole all their valuables just last week, just because he was Alliance."

Odin nodded. "Yeah, I know. Everything's a mess right now. I'm gonna talk to Callum, okay?" he said. Erika made to interrupt, but he went on, not letting her. "Its not going to be to no avail this time. Erika, there's something you need to know. When Callum left here, he went to the HQ to shoot some targets and ended up getting into a fight with another one of the agents, and shots were fired."


End file.
